Perseverance: A Mace Windu Adventure
by MenzFiction36
Summary: Jedi Master Mace Windu has somehow managed to survive his fall from Palpatine's office. Now, with the Sith in control of the galaxy, he must adopt a new role in order to achieve galactic tranquility. Without an army of Clones or an order of Jedi supporting him, it will be difficult. But, he must still exhaust his best efforts, hoping to defeat the Sith and reinstate the Republic.
1. Chapter 1

Quick disclaimer; I own nothing. The characters, ships, and planets in this story all belong to Disney and Lucasfilm.

* * *

 **Perseverance: A Mace Windu Adventure**

 **Chapter One: Escape**

* * *

A faint light, almost unnoticeable, flickered in the empty mind of the Korun Jedi Master.

 _What was that?_

Its glimmering persisted, becoming more rapid and frantic as he powerlessly watched. Soon, it brightened and expanded to a massive degree, flooding the entire scope of his mental vision.

He felt his eyes begin to sedately open, and they too were instantly blinded by the indistinguishable light.

 _Where am I?_

As his eyes finally opened fully, he realized exactly where the glow was coming from. An endless cluster of speeders zoomed over the area where he lay.

 _What?_

He still couldn't tolerate the glare created by the light, so he instinctively moved his hand to cover his squinting eyes, but instead came to an even more shocking revelation; he didn't have a hand.

 _No._

Abruptly, he remembered everything that had just occurred. Why he didn't have a hand, where he was, and what he was doing there.

 _Palpatine._

The Sith Lord had been victorious. He had failed.

Not because of the dreaded Chancellor, however. No, another name, even more grim than the other materialized.

 _Skywalker._

They had done this. Together.

Along with the distressful memories, an unbearable wave of physical pain arose.

Everything in the Jedi Master's body suddenly began to burn. His skin seared from the blistering lightning he had absorbed, his bones ached from the substantial fall he had undergone, and his right arm trembled from the loss of his hand.

Confusion, anger, and betrayal overtook his emotional neutrality. He could barely comprehend everything at once.

 _Why did he-?_

The wounded Jedi groaned in anguish as he attempted to sit upwards. He couldn't even shift any part of his body without experiencing an overwhelming surge of pain.

 _Force, it's worse than I thought._

Unless he desperately needed to, he obviously wasn't going to be able to get up any time soon. At this point, he was strictly limited to being able to ponder the events of the night.

The only problem was, none of it made any sense.

Palpatine was at his feet, begging for mercy. His lightsaber was poised, ready to strike and remove the influence of the Sith from the galaxy forever. All was going according to plan.

That is, until a shatterpoint emerged. _The_ shatterpoint. Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One, the hero without fear, ignited his own formidable blade and prevented Windu from executing the crucial act.

 _But, why?_

Windu had sensed the conflict within Skywalker the entire time, but he had never expected the Jedi to lash out in such a treasonous manner. Palpatine had been desperately pleading for the Knight's assistance, but Windu never took any of the cries seriously. Skywalker was merely confused and Palpatine was only clinging to his last hope in the room. That was what the Jedi Master had reasoned.

Both assumptions, of course, had been entirely incorrect. Windu had made a critical mistake in ignoring both of the blaring alarms which had feverishly rung in his mind. Once Skywalker had swung his lightsaber and Palpatine had roared in triumph, it had already been too late.

Windu had paid for both of his errors. Dearly.

 _I can't believe this._

He still couldn't accept anything that had transpired. Skywalker was supposed to be the _Chosen One._ He was supposed to bring an end to the Sith and deliver the anticipated, the _desired_ , balance to the Force.

Apparently, the prophecy had been misread.

 _Was Skywalker a Sith? Did he and Palpatine plan to bring the four most powerful Jedi at the Temple to their dooms?_

Then, it dawned to him.

 _The Temple._

Without him and the three other Masters whom had fallen, the Temple was more vulnerable than it had been in decades.

Right now, as the Jedi Master lay helplessly in the streets of Coruscant, the entire domain could be facing absolute destruction, along with all of the Jedi inside of it. None of them stood even a _remote_ chance against either Palpatine or Skywalker, assuming the latter was now sided with the Sith.

They would be doomed if the two opted to attack.

"Excuse me," a gentle, feminine voice interrupted Windu's thoughts.

The Jedi Master positioned his head in a way so that he could see where the voice had originated from.

Around him was an alleyway. Clumps of garbage from the surrounding shops flooded the entire scene. Beings strolled past the alley on the overpopulated streets, paying no mind to any of their surroundings. The lights of the speeders overhead, as Windu had observed earlier, continually shed a glimpse of radiance into the alley as they passed. This was especially beginning to annoy him.

In front of him was a female Mikkian, a curious expression engraved on her features as she slightly tilted her head to the side. She modeled a long robe which was coated in a glossy shade of silver, spreading from her slanted shoulders down to the area of her ankles. A wave of green tentacles rippled above her head peacefully, almost glowing in the dark atmosphere. She rested her hands on her hips, wrinkling the texture of her robe.

"Are you okay?"

Windu opened his mouth to reply, but before he could get the chance to speak, the Mikkian gasped and took multiple steps backwards.

"W-Wait, you're a Jedi!"

Windu lifted an eyebrow. Did this mean that the Jedi were all expected to have been dead?

"No, I know you. You're Master Windu! You tried to murder the Chancellor!"

 _Oh no._

To make things worse, public opinion was in favor of Palpatine.

"Everyone, watch out! Look! There's a Jedi!"

Behind the Mikkian, several more beings gathered and gaped at the wounded man.

"Caraya's soul, she's right! Someone inform the Republic! We need Clones down here now!"

 _Clones?_

The Clones were even against the Jedi? Surely, the army which had served and bonded with the Order throughout the entire course of the war would never betray them. Windu must have misunderstood what the being had said. It was just impossible.

Once again, however, his assumption was incorrect.

Before he knew it, a multitude of armored troopers stormed in his direction, blasters pointed directly at him for the kill.

He was really in trouble this time.

Although any form of movement brought excruciating pain, Windu could still focus all of his Force energy into dampening his injuries for a short interval. During that time, he would be able to evade the troopers for long enough until he could arrive to a safer location.

Doing so would render his injuries much worse later on, but for now, that wasn't important. What was important was that Windu survived in the first place.

"Blast him!"

Windu called out to the Force, directing all of the energy to his injuries, and instantly felt his pain subside.

He could finally move again.

Taking advantage of his newfound strength, he gracefully sprung to his feet and faced the incoming Clones. Before he withdrew, he required more information on the situation at hand.

"Troopers, I command you to drop your weapons."

The Clones halted their approach, but kept their blasters pointed at him.

"I'm afraid we can't do that, sir. We have strict orders to terminate all Jedi."

Windu shook his head in outrage, "What?! Who gave you these orders? Who in _the Galaxy_ would tell you to do this?!"

The communicating Clone paused, "The Chancellor, sir. Order 66 has been initiated."

 _Order 66._

The Jedi were aware of such an order, but it was merely viewed as a contemporary measure. If the Jedi were to ever rebel against the Republic, it would be the responsibility of the Senate to enact it.

Was his assault on Palpatine viewed as a betrayal of the Republic?

"Trooper, I am your general, and I have done nothing to harm the Republic. Do you really have the authorization to shoot me?"

The commanding clone took another step forward and tensed his grip on his blaster, "It's not my place to say, sir. I'm sorry, but I have my orders."

The Clones were done talking.

Windu knew he wasn't going to receive any more intel from his foes, so he commenced his retreat.

Before the Clones could even be provided the chance to fire their blasters, the Jedi Master vaulted to the nearest balcony.

"Don't let him get away!"

The Clones bounded a barrage of blaster fire in the direction of Windu, who immediately ducked behind the balcony wall for cover.

He reached for his lightsaber, but stopped when he remembered that he had lost it during the fall.

 _Blast._

He couldn't fight back, and he couldn't deflect any lasers. He would have to resort to dodge-and-run tactics, something he wasn't accustomed to in the heat of battle.

Windu surveyed the area around him. He would have to move quickly, before reinforcements arrived. If he stalled for too long, escape would eventually become impossible.

High above him was a landing platform, which carved into the general structure of the building. Opposite his position was an additional cluster of balconies which stacked towards their building's top.

The additional balconies would require more jumps and provide more opportunities for the Clones to shoot him. That was out of the equation.

The landing platform above him required only a single extended jump, and promised the possibility of containing a ship.

That was his next step.

As the blasts bombarded against the crumbling balcony wall, Windu accumulated the necessary Force energy to leap to the platform.

 _Stars!_

He felt a momentary rush of pain emerge in his torso as he leapt.

It seemed to him that with every jump, he lost more and more of the energy restraining his excruciating pain; leading to instances such as this one.

The Clones swiftly adjusted their aim to fire at Windu midair, but the Jedi Master moved too briskly for them to hit.

He landed on the platform with an acrobatic roll, generating more distance between himself and his assaulters.

He had escaped their grip for now, but he wouldn't be safe for long. It was imperative that he find a ship immediately. As he scanned the casual hangar, he discovered that his options were very limited.

The platform's spacecraft solely consisted of transports and shuttles. Nothing which included weaponry.

Windu would require something compact and hasty. The Clones would likely signal for gunships to pursue him, and without laser cannons, he would be forced to rely on speed to escape them.

The transports were too large and sluggish to fit Windu's requirements. The shuttles weren't fast, but they were his best chance of avoiding enemy fire.

 _Here we go._

The Jedi Master bolted towards the nearest shuttle and slid up its walkway. It was miniscule compared to some of the other ships on the platform, supporting three slanted wings on its sides and its peak. The exterior shade was a plain gray, clear of any blemishes.

That would soon change.

As Windu prepared for takeoff, clicking and tapping a variety of colored buttons, he apprehended the fact that it would be extraordinary difficult to fly with only one hand.

A normal pilot wouldn't be able to perform any sufficient maneuvers without such a key limb.

They would essentially be rendered a sitting duck.

An easy target.

Windu was no normal pilot, however.

He was an attuned Jedi, with reflexes beyond that of any standard being.

If he put his faith in the Force and allowed it to guide him, he would reach the security that he coveted.

He only needed to trust it.

And he did.

The Korun Master discarded of any doubts or fears that he possessed, permitting the Force to flow through him and dictate every one of his actions.

The ship lifted and turned towards the city, zooming out of the hangar and avoiding the impotent fire of the remaining Clones on the streets.

Windu steered the ship above the long line of speeders and into restricted airspace; reserved only for that of Jedi transports, emergency vehicles, and Republic military craft.

The very breed of ship which he may soon encounter.

He wasn't going to waste any time sitting in the traffic of the city's air lanes. He was now a fugitive with nothing to lose. He would break any law he needed to if it would assist in his escape.

Even though the upper airspace could be accessed by the Jedi, he doubted that they still possessed such rights after what he had been told by the Clones.

He determined his first destination to be the Jedi Temple. Even if it was destroyed, he could still analyze its condition from afar and consider his next step of action based on his conclusions.

He couldn't just _leave_ his comrades behind. Even in this state.

He wasn't far away at all, anyway. At this height, he could already catch a portionable glimpse of the structure.

And he didn't like what he saw. Not at all.

Multiple dense funnels of smoke poured out of a scatter of quivering flames around the Temple's towers, leaking towards the night sky and mixing to form a single, giant channel of exhaust.

 _No._

It was the only word the Jedi Master could even muster in his thoughts. The very location in which he had been raised, trained, respected, and befriended in was being destroyed before his very eyes. Everything he had lived for, fought for, persisted for, and been willing to _die_ for was nearly gone. He could only watch helplessly.

With no power over anything that transpired.

 _I'm too late._

He began to close his eyes in overwhelming distraught. He just couldn't stand the sight of it anymore.

 _I've failed._

Regret consumed him. He had been granted so many opportunities to prevent this from happening.

 _If I had only killed Palpatine before Skywalker could-_

His sullen thoughts were halted when his entire ship trembled intensely.

 _That had to of been..._

Windu peeked behind the shuttle and discovered five LAAT's on his tail. He had just absorbed their first wave of fire; and they weren't done yet.

Multiple more blasts bounded in the shuttle's direction, scarcely missing their target as Windu expertly maneuvered his ship in avoidance. He increased his speed to garner more distance between himself and his attackers, but it was no use. The Gunships were much faster, and they quickly adjusted to his sudden burst of acceleration.

He continued to keep his ship in motion, constantly circling and violently swaying from side to side. He was much more difficult to hit in this state, but he wouldn't last for much longer. The gunships would eventually land a critical hit.

Another barrage of green fire collided with the hull of his ship, prompting it to tremble to an even greater degree. Windu could see the haze of smoke which was beginning to gush out of the back of his shuttle.

 _Blast! How many more hits can I take?_

He persisted to swing his ship in every possible direction, simultaneously furthering his approach to the Temple.

 _No._

He narrowly heard an unidentifiable voice echo in his mind.

 _There's nothing you can do._

It continued to whisper harsh realities.

 _The Temple is already lost, can't you see? You're too injured to help anyone, anyway._

Windu supplied a mental nod. The voice was right. What could he do? The Force energy restraining his injuries was fading away. He could feel the pain slowly creeping up his legs, vigorously nagging to spread to every section of his body. He could barely pilot in this state; let alone run or fight. He would best assist the galaxy by retreating and healing his injuries, only later to return and eliminate the Sith.

An additional ripple of fire smacked against his left wing, breaking it apart. His ship dangerously veered to the side, subsequently losing much of its maneuvering ability.

The Force had carried him long enough.

He needed to leave. Now.

As the Gunships continued on their fiery pursuit, Windu steered his ship away from the Temple and towards the dark atmosphere.

The movement caught the Clones off guard, and they responded somewhat slowly. They altered their course and formation to adapt to the Jedi's rotation and better align themselves for assault; but, they were too late.

Windu thrusted out of the Coruscant sky and pummeled into space.

The Gunships attempted a few final shots, but it was no use.

Windu glanced one last time at the city-coated planet before departing.

 _I'm sorry._

He positioned his ship to leave, and made the jump to lightspeed.


	2. Chapter 2

Quick disclaimer; I own nothing. The characters, ships, and planets in this story all belong to Disney and Lucasfilm.

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who followed, favorited, and/or reviewed my last chapter. I appreciate all of your commends. I would also value anything more you have to say; complimentary or critical (if it is constructive, of course). Enjoy the next chapter.

* * *

 **Perseverance: A Mace Windu Adventure**

 **Chapter Two: Speck in the Void**

* * *

The shuttle slammed into the dominion of empty space, battered and fuming. The top wing had split apart during the trek through lightspeed, and the surface of the ship itself was chipped and scraped beyond repair. Granted the condition it had been in prior to hyperdrive, Windu was lucky that it had even successfully commenced its voyage in the first place. The bumps and jolts of the trip had especially inflicted a number on the craft, to the point in which it was no longer capable of continuing.

Once it could endure no more, it had ceased its jump and rattled uncontrollably, startling the Jedi Master.

 _Stars! Couldn't I have at least been given a warning?_

His entire body was now throbbing in agony.

The Force energy which had been applied to his injuries was spent. They ached to an even greater degree than they had when he had first awaken; and they were almost unbearable back then.

He couldn't help but writhe and scream. The pain was everywhere.

His head, his neck, his arms, his torso, his legs. They all hurt on equaling levels, but also incorporated varying categories of pain.

His entire upper body seared from the Force lightning which had overwhelmed him.

He didn't even want to think about that.

His sides firmly pounded into his inner structures, presumably due to his uncontrolled landing.

That was unexplainable. He still didn't understand how he had survived.

Currently, however, the root of the injuries was not the issue. For now, his focus needed to be on calling for assistance.

Not only was he in critical condition, but he was also confined in the middle of empty space, unable to reach the surface of any nearby planet.

He couldn't activate lightspeed, and his ship was damaged enough so that he couldn't fly at a regular pace for more than a standard hour.

 _How am I going to get out of this?_

He was helpless at this stage. No one would even attempt to search for him or ever be able to find him, unless...

He struggled to collect his comlink from his robes, intending to send an urgent distress signal.

There had to still be other Jedi alive. Many were spread around the galaxy, away from the slaughter which he had witnessed at the Temple.

Then again, most were accompanied by battalions of Clones, whom Windu knew would target any Jedi in their vicinity.

He had already experienced that.

As he gradually typed in the codes to connect to his comlink to the starfighter's system, he spotted a blinking red light on its side and halted.

 _What?_

A trace of dread tingled down his spine.

It could only mean one thing.

 _A message from the temple?_

He tapped the flashing button, anticipating a clone to mock the destruction of the Order, or a young Jedi to desperately plead for aid while azure lasers whizzed by their face.

Instead, a transparent hologram of a bearded man appeared.

His arms were folded together beneath a draping robe, and his posture was particularly upright. His hair was chaotically ruffled and swung somewhat to the side.

His demeanor displayed no panic. He merely stood motionless in front of the projector.

Windu instantly recognized him.

 _Kenobi?_

It indeed was the Jedi Master. His expression was unusually tired and distressed. Fierce lines had formed underneath his eyes, and his whole face seemed to plunge downwards while he frowned. Windu could almost sense a feeling of regret illuminating from the distressed Jedi.

Seeing his trusted colleague in this state prompted a wave of uneasiness to flow through him. Why wasn't he still on Utapau?

 _"_ _This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi."_

If he was at the Temple, did that signify that it was safe to return? Had the Jedi successfully fought off the attack he had glimpsed?

" _I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen, with the dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place. This message is a-"_

 _What?_

Windu paused the transmission and buried his face into his solitary hand, distantly shaking his head as he did so.

 _This can't be happening._

The very two things which he had devoted his life to protecting had both fallen in one night.

 _One single_ night.

And he had grasped the opportunity to prevent it all from happening.

To kill the man responsible.

To save his friends from dying.

To generate peace within the Galaxy.

But, _the Empire_?

A new government had already arisen?

He supposed it made sense. It was clear from the beginning that the incentive of the Sith had been to grasp control over the Galaxy. Although, it had been universally accepted that they would only achieve it through a Separatist victory.

Not through a manipulation within the Republic.

Palpatine's plan must have consisted of turning Skywalker to the dark side all along. He _was_ his shatterpoint, as Windu had sensed. Everything had relied on Skywalker in that one moment.

The entire fate of the galaxy, in the hands of a young, unstable man.

All of the appointments between the two, the conversations they held, the sincere friendship they had developed.

It had all been leading up to this.

 _How could I have been so blind?_

They should have never assigned Skywalker to the espionage mission.

They should have realized that his loyalties to the Chancellor were too grounded, and that he would acquiesce to the darkness surrounding the twisted politician.

 _We failed everyone._

The beings which had relied on the martial and political protection of the Republic would now face infinite levels of anarchy and corruption.

The Jedi around the Galaxy would inevitably perish.

The Sith would reign supreme.

For a time, anyway. If Windu could escape his dire situation, he would execute every possible step to terminate the Sith's rule.

But, for now, he was merely left to ponder Kenobi's message.

He reluctantly tapped the resume button.

 _"-warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi: trust in the Force. Do not return to the temple. That time has passed, and our future is uncertain. Avoid Coruscant. Avoid detection. Be secret, but be strong."_

Windu sighed.

 _Exile._

How could a powerful Order of ten-thousand Jedi Knights be confined to exile within a day?

 _"We will each be challenged: our trust, our faith, our friendships. But we must persevere and, in time, I believe a new hope will emerge."_

 _A new hope?_

What was he implying?

 _"May the Force be with you. Always."_

The message ended, and Kenobi's image faded away into oblivion.

Windu peered into the infinite void of space surrounding his ship.

 _Kenobi's out there. Somewhere._

In a time of wholesome darkness, there were still shades of encouraging news.

Of all the Jedi in the Order, Kenobi was one of the colleagues whom he respected the most.

His defeat of a Sith Lord as a _Padawan_ , his optimistic attitude towards every situation, his unbreakable demeanor of serenity, his insight on every salient decision, his utmost devotion to the Jedi Code, his unheralded reliability in battle, and his incomprehensible mastery of Form III.

The list could go on forever.

Kenobi had perhaps contributed more to the Order than any other member in his time.

In some ways, he was the ultimate prototype.

The individual which every Jedi should always aspire to be.

With his recent defeat of Grievous, this assessment contains even more legitimacy.

 _Too bad there's no longer anyone to look up to him._

The negative feelings returned.

To every positive note, a negative setback always materialized.

In these dark times, it was impossible to avoid them.

If Kenobi was alive, though, who else could be?

Surely, Master Yoda must have survived. He would have foreseen these events, and would have been able to fight off any assaulting Clones. The Wookies would have also likely taken his side.

Then again, if an attack was swift enough, no one could stop it.

Windu had seen that when his fellows masters; Kit Fisto, Agen Kolar, and Saesee Tiin had been struck down within seconds.

They were all powerful and accomplished warriors, having trained all of their lives for the very moment which lied before them.

Regardless, all of the training, meditating, and studying faltered.

Once Windu had blinked, two of the Masters were already dead, and the third was slaughtered soon after.

A shadow had stood over them all, with flashes of crimson flickering away from his figure and bolting towards the last remaining Jedi in the room.

 _No._

Windu clenched his fist, ignoring the pain that followed.

 _Not him._

He inhaled sharply.

 _Don't think about him right now._

He then exhaled sedately, and scanned the controls in front of him.

 _Focus on the task at hand._

He needed to unearth a source of rescue.

 _The comlink._

That was the key to his survival. _That_ was his shatterpoint.

If he could create a form of contact, he would likely survive.

"Emergency Code Nine Thirteen. This is Jedi Master Mace Windu. Emergency Code Nine Thirteen. Any surviving Jedi, please report."

He waited, anxiously peering at the comlink as it searched for any responding frequencies.

Nothing.

"Emergency Code Nine Thirteen. Anyone, please report."

He tapped his fingers against the base of his seat, nervously muttering to himself as he did so.

Someone else _had_ to be alive. Kenobi couldn't be the only other one.

The shift in balance, however, told him otherwise.

The Sith were in control. The remaining light in the Force was now only an unnoticeable flicker.

Still, others must have survived.

They _had_ to of.

Suddenly, a sequence of inaudible clicks sounded from the comlink.

A frequency had been picked up, and it was a Jedi channel.

Windu excitedly tapped the transmitter, and another holographic figure appeared.

This time it wasn't Kenobi. Instead, Senator Bail Organa's image appeared.

Windu frowned. Organa wasn't a Jedi.

"Senator Organa? How did you receive this message?"

Organa beamed and let out an ecstatic sigh to the sight of the Jedi Master.

"Master Windu, thank the Force that you're alive. We all thought you were dead."

 _We?_

Windu hid the smile which was beginning to form.

Could Organa be with other Jedi?

"That doesn't quite answer my question, Senator. How were you able to pick up this frequency?"

Organa cleared his throat, straightening his posture and adopting a neutral expression.

"Yes, of course. I apologize."

He glanced to something offscreen.

"I'm using Master Yoda's comlink. I was able to rescue him and Master Kenobi after the Clones' betrayal."

This time, Windu couldn't prevent the smile from emerging.

Yoda had survived.

Even better, he was in the company of Kenobi.

Perhaps the three could supply a more sufficient strike against Palpatine. Yoda and Kenobi were certainly more accomplished than the three Masters whom had previously accompanied him.

"Excellent. Are they currently with you?"

Organa nodded. "Yes, they've both just arrived from their confrontations. But Master Windu, we thought you had been killed by Palpatine. What happened? How did you-?"

"We can discuss these matters later," Windu interrupted, "I'm in need of rescue right now. My ship has lost its hyperdrive ability, and I am badly wounded. I will send you my coordinates for pickup."

"Yes- yes, of course. We will come as soon as possible."

Windu began to tap away at his controls. "I'm sending them to you now. Thank you for your assistance, Senator."

Organa inclined his head, "It's my privilege to assist you, master Jedi. We will be with you shortly."

With that, the contact ended.

Windu would escape death again.

* * *

A cloaked figure rested in a cushioned chair, surrounded by various priceless statues and artifacts. The walls around him contained a distinctive hue of blood-red, and the transparisteel window which would normally place the city on display was shielded by a dark shade. His eyes were closed, and his posture was noticeably straight.

His general appearance was that of a tired, fragile old man.

His face was scarred and twisted beyond repair. A creased hood covered the top of his head, concealing a wave of hair even whiter than the snow of Hoth.

Nearly everyone in the galaxy viewed him as a harmless, innocent politician. They believed that he only sought to protect and care for them; to look out for all of their best interests. He was regarded as a father-figure, with wisdom and experience that can only follow with age.

Those especially close to him, however, knew that essentially none of this was true. Yes, he certainly was wise and experienced, but he wasn't innocent, harmless, or caring in any way.

He was actually quite the opposite, as he was the enigma of the Dark Side; the Lord of the Sith. The most powerful being in the galaxy.

And now, he was also its unabridged ruler.

Senator Palpatine, Chancellor Palpatine, Emperor Palpatine.

The public could label him with any stature of political power that they wanted to.

His hidden name, his most boasted title, was _Darth Sidious_.

Only a select few even knew of the name's existence.

And even fewer grasped its meaning.

One whom had grown to understand it was the man who stood before him now.

"You are interrupting my solitude, Vice Chancellor."

Sidious now opened his eyes, which gleamed brightly with malevolence. A mischievous grin appeared on his deformed face.

He started again, "No, I have mislabeled you. That position is no longer needed. We must find you a new one."

The man, a blue Chagrian with a pair of piercing horns sprouting from his stout head, Mas Amedda, bowed thoroughly in submission.

"Forgive me, my Lord, but I bring urgent news."

Sidious narrowed his demanding gaze. "They had better be. I don't take these obstructions lightly."

Amedda swallowed back a wave of fear, "Jedi Master Mace Windu was spotted on Coruscant last night. He was pursued by a squadron of Clones, but managed to escape the planet. His current whereabouts are unknown."

The Sith's eyes widened in a reaction of restrained shock.

"Are you certain?"

Amedda nodded. "Security footage was able to confirm. He was originally found laying in an alley nearby the Senate offices."

Sidious let out a quiet groan, "I see."

He then pressed a button which raised the shade and rose to his feet, strolling to the colossal window and gazing at the alluring image of the populous city, "Search the planet for more Jedi. He may not have been the only one to escape from the Temple," he turned to his informer, "you are dismissed."

"Yes, my Lord." Amedda bowed once more and hastily departed.

Sidious' plan now possessed another obstacle.

Another Jedi to obliterate.


	3. Chapter 3

Quick disclaimer; I own nothing. The characters, ships, and planets in this story all belong to Disney and Lucasfilm.

Author's note: I apologize for the lapse between updates. I thank anyone who continues to read my tale and hope all of you enjoy the next chapter. All reviews are appreciated.

* * *

 **Perseverance: A Mace Windu Adventure**

 **Chapter Three: Regret**

* * *

Obi-Wan Kenobi sat in the conference room of the Tantive IV with his head buried into his hands. Both were ridden with ash and dust, while also shaking ever so slightly. His tunic was shredded and wrinkled, marked with numerous slashes and dark smears. His boots had been semi-filled with volcanic rock from Mustafar, carving into his skin with every movement he made. The entire planet almost still seemed to be around him.

He could feel the heat radiating from the soles of his boots. He could smell the burning, smokey scent that had filled the air around him. He could see the bright flows of red-orange lava oozing in every direction.

He could _hear_ the cries of agony surfacing from his former Padawan.

No, not his Padawan. His _brother_. His _friend_. His _son_.

He still couldn't comprehend the fact that just a few days ago, Anakin and he had spoken casually. A week ago, Anakin had saved his life.

But, a day ago, Anakin had attempted to kill him.

And he had, in turn, left him to die.

 _Enough_.

He had already reflected on this subject extensively, and he could no longer bear it. He needed to move on from such loss, just as he had after Qui-Gon's death.

" _Keep your concentration on the here and now, where it belongs."_

It was what his Master had told him a countless number of times, and they were the very words he was attempting to apply to his thoughts now.

But it was _hard_.

How could he stop thinking about the boy he practically raised, the teenager he constantly instructed, and the man he had battled side-by-side with throughout the entire course of the war?

The man he had loved and trusted. Whom had been in his sight at nearly all times. They had laughed together more times than he could count. They had been in more hopeless situations than he could comprehend.

Now, he was just _gone_.

And everything that is gone is useless to mope over.

For his whole life, he had been trained to let go of everything he feared to lose. To abstain from creating attachments that may hinder his thoughts and actions.

He had almost managed to apply this lesson to all aspects of his life, but with Anakin, he had failed to do so.

Anakin had been his only true attachment.

And he was punished substantially as a result.

If he had just been a little less lenient, or been a better example, or treated him with more warmth at first…

Maybe, then, he wouldn't have gone over to the Dark Side.

 _The here and the now._

Qui Gon's words rattled through his mind.

He sighed and cleared himself of any somber thoughts, raising his head to glimpse his surroundings.

The entire room was radiating white. Merely staring at the gleaming walls strained his tired eyes. Black control dials with multi-colored buttons and switches were loosely scattered about. The table before him was occupied by several empty chairs; only one of which was inhabited by another.

Yoda sat to his right, on the opposite end of the table. He latched onto his gimer stick in a cross-legged position, his eyes closed while in a tranquil sequence of meditation.

Obi-Wan reached out to feel the infinite light emitting from the Jedi Master.

It was comforting. Soothing. It was partly what was keeping him sane in a time like this.

After experiencing so much darkness, destruction, and betrayal, feeling something so good and so alleviating was inexplicably delightful.

In a time where the light in the galaxy was covered by the ensnaring curtain of the dark side, confirming its continual existence was relieving.

No, it was _necessary_.

Because Obi-Wan needed it to persist. He needed it to guide him and to keep him away from the darkness.

The light was his life, it was what fueled his existence. It was what directed every one of his actions and what rooted all of his motives.

Without it, he would be nothing.

No, he wouldn't become like Anakin, he wouldn't fall to the dark side.

Instead, he would be a shallow man. A shell of his former self.

 _Nothing_.

An irritated grunt from Yoda interrupted his reflective thoughts.

"Shielding yourself well, you are not, Master Kenobi."

 _What_?

Obi-Wan hadn't even realized that he'd lowered nearly all of his shields. He was so lost in thought that he hadn't even been paying attention to something as customary as maintaining them.

The tiny grandmaster opened his eyes, "Distracting, they are."

Obi-Wan sighed and inclined his head in apology. "I'm sorry, Master."

He then frowned. He didn't like his reasoning for his recent error. It went against the very foundation of Jedi principles. He wasn't supposed to somber over the past or allow his emotions to cloud his focus. He was supposed to be a Jedi Master; an assigned leader and role model who had advanced past such trivial violations. Hadn't he just told himself this only a few minutes earlier? "I've been focusing too much on everything that's occurred."

Yoda released a gradual sigh, a momentary wave of grief spreading over his wrinkled features. "Unfortunate, these events are. But, move past them, we must. Other matters to attend to, we have."

Obi-Wan supplied a quick nod and shifted his gaze away.

Yes, they certainly did.

What would they do with the babies? How would they hide from the Empire? What was their next course of action?

There were so many things to plan and perform.

And he had no idea how to go about any of them.

"Arriving to Master Windu soon, we should be."

 _Ah, yes._

Obi-Wan couldn't hold back the slight grin forming to the suggestion.

It was perhaps the only positive news they had heard since arriving on Coruscant.

Mace Windu, whom they had thought to have been dead, had miraculously survived the events of late.

After Palpatine was said to have survived, they had assumed he had perished during his confrontation with the Sith Lord.

The official reports of Windu's failure to assassinate the Chancellor had only continually supported this theory.

But, when they had received a message pleading for assistance, they had recognized his voice. And when they had later heard him speak his name, they had been astonished.

How could he have failed to destroy Sidious and survived at the same time?

Sure, Yoda had just done so. However, he also wasn't confirmed by galactic news to have been killed while confronting the Emperor.

 _The Emperor._

Obi-Wan couldn't help but wince whenever he heard the new title.

It was just so wrong.

So out of place.

The Sith _couldn't_ rule the Galaxy. They didn't _deserve_ to.

How had they let this happen?

How had they not seen that the very man ruling their government was the same man they had been so desperately pursuing?

On Geonosis, Dooku had attempted to warn him. He had presented the "hypothetical" scenario in which the Republic was under the control of the Dark Lord of the Sith.

But he hadn't listened.

And neither had the Council when he had informed them of what he had been told.

Because they had been too arrogant. Too sure of their "secure" position. Surely, if it had been true, then they would have sensed it.

Just as they had hypothesized when the Sith were rumored to have returned. When he and Qui-Gon had assured them that the creature they had encountered on Naboo was a Sith.

Both times, they had been wrong.

Maybe, just maybe, if they had listened to Dooku, Anakin would never have fallen.

 _Maybe._

If they had immediately investigated Dooku's claims and discovered the Chancellor's intentions sooner, then he wouldn't have had enough time to manipulate the perplexed Jedi.

But, they hadn't. And thus, they had faced the consequences.

Now, only a small handful of Jedi possessed the opportunity to correct that mistake.

"Sirs, we have just arrived to Master Windu's coordinates."

Captain Antilles, head of Organa's security team, had just entered the conference room with a quick pace and anxious expression.

Both he and Yoda sprang up into alert positions upon hearing the news.

"On board, immediately bring him."

They both departed from their seats and trailed after Antilles, whom had motioned for them to follow.

Obi-Wan added another command, "And prepare a medical pod for instant use, he may be in critical condition."

Antilles nodded, continuing to plod down the hallway with the two Jedi, "We already have, sir. He will be treated upon entry."

Obi-Wan almost smiled to that. Unlike the Clones, Organa's security team could think on their own in the heat of a situation. Even without orders, they could enact common-sense procedures.

The Clones, however loyal, were not always efficient in sudden spurts of action.

However, they were in the hands of the Empire now.

"Excellent, see to it that he's treated well."

Antilles supplied another nod, "Yes, sir."

Obi-Wan's gaze shifted to Yoda, who, despite his age, was keeping up with them rather well.

The Force really could create miracles.

After a few twists and turns through the labyrinth of the vessel, they finally arrived to the room Windu was only just entering.

Except, he wasn't alone.

Two men accompanied him on each side, lifting him by the shoulders and carrying him into the room towards the medical pod in the center of it.

Force, he couldn't even _walk_.

Not only could he not walk, but he was also missing a hand and scarred considerably on his face. His tunic was ripped apart and his eyes were squeezed tight in a fit of anguish.

Oh, _Force_.

What had happened to this man?

Obi-Wan was used to seeing him grim and fatigued throughout the course of the war, as most Jedi had been, but he had never seen the man in a condition like _this_.

He was injured, and _badly_.

"Mace, what happened? Are you okay?"

The Korun turned to Obi-Wan gradually and squinted his eyes, almost as if he could barely even see him. It seemed that he was about to pass out.

It had taken them far too long to rescue him.

"I believe, Master Kenobi, that now is not the time for questions."

Obi-Wan steadily approached the wounded Jedi as he was transferred onto the medical pod.

"Yes, I can see that. It seems that your medical needs outweigh our need for answers."

A dose of his sarcastic humor couldn't hurt in a time like this. He had often found that his humor could serve as an effective, momentary medicine for pain.

Windu only nodded as his vision seemed to fade. He wasn't one to laugh.

"Discuss everything, we will soon. For now, recover Master Windu must."

Obi-Wan turned to Yoda, who had halted his approach at the edge of the room. The concern implanted onto his expression was evident, as Obi-Wan was sure it similarly was for his, but a spark of contentedness was also present. Although he was worried about Mace's injuries, he had also found solitude in the fact that he would indeed survive.

Their rescue had been successful, but far too delayed.

Even if Mace was in worse of a condition than he had been when he first contacted them, he would still emerge alive and, to a degree, well.

His hand may be lost and his face may be scarred, but both were obstacles that he could easily overcome.

He was perhaps the most powerful Jedi in the Order, and it would take much more than that to restrain him.

And as Obi-Wan watched the medical pod be rushed away, a surge of hope flowed through him.

The three of them could certainly think of something to improve their sunken status.

And they would. Obi-Wan was sure of it.

* * *

A week had already transpired since Windu had been rescued.

In that time, he had undergone the necessary procedures to heal his wounds. Throughout his recovery period, he could have, of course, discussed the dire topics at hand with his fellow Jedi Masters. However, he had felt that time to meditate off of everything he had encountered was needed before engaging in any meaningful discussion.

He could assess all that he experienced, uncover new truths, and form solutions to some of the problems they currently faced.

Yoda and Obi-Wan had agreed, deciding that meditating themselves could also prove to be beneficial.

So far, he had spent very little time with the two. Their interactions would occur once they were all prepared to reveal their accounts from the past week and a half.

And now, as Windu was being escorted down the shining hallways of the Tantive IV, that wait was finally over.

He wasn't quite able to walk yet, given the severity of damage within his legs. Instead, he was forced to hover over the surface of the vessel in a power chair.

And he absolutely _hated_ it.

Everything about it was revolting. He wasn't nearly old enough to need one of them yet, and it only highlighted his crippling injuries. Something he was minorly embarrassed by.

In good time, he would be able to walk again. Eventually, he would muster the ability to run and execute combative missions just as effectively as he had once been able to.

For now, however, he was stuck sitting in a chair and allowing it to do all of the work.

It was truly agonizing. Even more so than when he had faced the very pain of the injuries themselves.

They had merely _paled_ in comparison.

He could handle physical pain. Naturally, as a Jedi, he had been exposed to it his entire life. Embarrassment, however, was an entirely new frontier.

The chair wasn't even necessarily the most humiliating aspect of his current appearance. The glimmering mechanical hand he now sported was perhaps even more distressing.

Not only did he sense that he had lost a perceptible portion of his connection to the Force, but he had also lost the very hand that had gripped the helm of his lightsaber throughout his time with the Order.

He would now be forced to adapt to combat without it.

He could potentially never be the same.

His chair was only temporary, but his mechanical hand would last forever.

He could, of course, eventually overcome its setbacks, but it would certainly require time to do so.

Time he may not have in his current condition.

The scars searing across his face, conversely, weren't nearly as severe as anticipated.

They were a welcome feature, a display of war-time experience that wouldn't hinder his abilities in any fashion.

The chair and the hand, however, were a _plague_ placed upon him.

 _Cease this line of thought._

He couldn't wait for a break from his inner thoughts, a time to escape his nagging devastations.

 _Finally, I've arrived._

He had reached his destination: the conference room. The sight of his two colleagues before him instantly freed him of his grievances.

Both Jedi Masters were peering at him in a neutral manner, prepared to commence business immediately. Yoda sat at the head of the table in his usual cross-legged position. Kenobi sat upright, but with somewhat of an exhausted slump evident in his posture. His hands were clamped together at the base of the table, as Yoda's were folded on top of his jarring, compact gimer stick.

It was all to be expected.

He knew both beings well enough to recognize all of their regular tendencies.

"Ready to share your tale, are you, Master Windu?"

He merely nodded in response, shifting to the edge of the table and motioning for his escorts to depart.

There was no real need for introductory statements.

Once only the three of them remained, Kenobi commenced the discussion, as was one of his frequent tendencies, "Well, I think we ought to start with you Mace. It seems that your confrontation was the very event that headed our situation."

 _Interesting._

He had expected them to wish to hear his testimony first, as he had hypothesized that they had already exchanged their own narratives with each other.

Yoda's immediate, quiet grunt of approval essentially confirmed his theory.

"Of course, Master Kenobi. I am more than happy to begin," he then cleared his throat in preparation for the long testimony he was about to administer, "as I'm sure you already know, masters Tinn, Kolar, Fisto, and I were on our way to address the Chancellor after," he paused, hesitant to even breathe the detested name. He just _hated_ the way it rolled off his tongue, "...Skywalker had informed us of his affiliation with the Sith."

Both Masters nodded in understanding, but Windu had observed a slight altercation in Kenobi's expression when his former apprentice had been mentioned. For a brief moment, a flash of unheralded pain was ridden on the Master's face as his body allowed one involuntary tremble.

 _Force._

He hadn't even considered the torment his friend was undergoing. When he had lost Depa, he had faced more pain and trauma than he ever had throughout his span with the Order.

And they had been close. _Very_ close. But they hadn't been _nearly_ as close as Kenobi and Skywalker.

To imagine the length to which Kenobi was suffering, it was... _unbearable_.

 _What had become of Skywalker, anyway?_

He was anxious to ask the two for an answer, but knew they would only seek the rest of his testimony first.

"At first, he greeted us as he normally would. His tone and demeanor were as joyous and cordial as ever, but I could still sense the darkness looming in the room," he felt himself begin to sneer to the memory. He couldn't help but do so. The memory was just too antagonizing, "that… stench, it was like nothing I'd ever sensed before. I had thought Dooku's aurora had been strong, but Palpatine," he paused again, his gaze transitioning into one of sightless contemplation, "made Dooku's seem like that of a _youngling_."

Yoda supplied a small nod, his eyes closing in bitter reflection. Another concurring grunt slipped from his lips.

Clearly, he had witnessed the same power.

Clearly, then, he had also confronted Palpatine in some capacity.

"He must have known that his aurora was showing, considering that he's hidden it from us for so long," Kenobi posited, interrupting the reflective moment, "why would he keep up his act as Chancellor, then, if he knew his darkness was revealed?"

 _Oh, Kenobi, always so focused on the task at hand._

He had always been keen to tackle unresolved issues, analyzing the evidence and formulating the questions that would lead to a definitive conclusion.

His observational prowess and skills of deduction were vital to many of the Council's most paramount decisions.

Not even a mere moment of reflection could escape his determination.

"I can't say that I'm sure. He may have only been attempting to catch us off-guard," Windu theorized, searching his memory for a more detailed response, "the contradiction was certainly somewhat of a distraction. It had very little of an impact, but I'm sure he aimed to use every advantage possible."

Both Masters nodded in agreement. Given that Palpatine had orchestrated the entire war from both sides of the conflict while simultaneously hiding his true identity as a Sith Lord, his schematic abilities were naturally unquestioned.

"The other masters, killed, were they?" Yoda queried, finally contributing to the conversation.

Windu couldn't help but shift his gaze to the floor as he warily nodded. Three of the Order's most prestigious Masters had been slaughtered under his command. Having to admit such a detail to the Grandmaster of that Order was remorseful, "Yes, I'm afraid so. Palpatine attacked first, and before I had the chance to counter, masters Kolar and Tinn were struck down," he paused, hesitant to report the rest. He could see the expressions of both Jedi deteriorating, "Master Fisto was killed shortly after."

Yoda followed suit, exhaling a soft sigh as his gaze lowered. He had instructed nearly every member of the Order in some capacity, and he had lost nearly all of them in the past week. The confirmation of the deaths of three more only contributed to his suffering.

Obi-Wan was similarly disheartened, and even one of his extraordinary focus was unable to respond to such a revelation.

Windu felt the obligation to progress the conversation and lift the somber mood.

"He was the fastest and most powerful combatant I've ever faced. At first, I was admittedly outmatched. But once I slipped into Vaapad, I was able to gain the upper hand."

Both Masters' demeanors suddenly formed into one of eager anticipation.

Both were clearly wondering how Windu had survived, and they seemed to believe that they were finally about to receive their answer.

"Were you able to defeat him? If that's the case, how did he emerge alive, and how did both of you sustain your injuries?"

Windu remained silent for a moment, contemplating the best way to word his response. After seeing Obi-Wan's reaction to a mere mention of Skywalker, he didn't want to see what the Master would do if he were to describe the boy's disastrous betrayal.

"I apologize, Master Kenobi, but this may be difficult for you to hear."

Again, Kenobi's eyes sunk into a state of despair. He only managed a weak nod.

He evidently knew what Windu was about to describe.

"I assure you I can handle it, please continue."

Windu nodded in return, regretting that he would be the one to report the account of Skywalker's betrayal to his colleague, "I had disarmed Palpatine and was prepared to end the affair, but I felt a presence emerge into the room. Not just any presence, but _the_ presence. Skywalker had disobeyed orders and arrived to the office," he paused abruptly, pondering the most effective manner in which to detail the rest of the interaction, "with my shatterpoint ability, I could sense his significance to the moment. Palpatine pleaded for his assistance, but I refuted all of his desperate ramble."

He hesitated, searching the room for any sign of a reaction. It didn't take long to unearth a look of dreadful anticipation engraved onto Kenobi's sunken face.

The implications of Skywalker's involvement were quickly sinking in.

He continued, "Without warning, Palpatine summoned a wave of force lightning as a last attempt at victory, but he failed. I deflected the bolts onto his face, which resulted in the deformed appearance I'm sure you've both observed."

Both Masters again nodded, another soft grunt resonating from Yoda.

"However, my victory was short-lived. Skywalker demanded that I apprehend Palpatine rather than terminate him, but I rejected the notion. I sensed his desperation, his despair and confusion, but I let it go," he sighed, desperately wishing he could go back and reenact the moment with his present knowledge, altering his foolish deeds, "my focus instead drifted back to Palpatine. As I prepared to deliver the final strike, I sensed a shift in Skywalker. Once again, I ignored all of the peculiar signs surrounding him and brought my blade down for the blow. But, before it could reach the Sith, the boy ignited his own and discarded of my hand."

He stopped, taking a moment to peer at his aesthetic hand, missing the feeling of its hot touch. Never again would he take his other for granted.

"W-what happened then? How did you survive?"

Winds shifted his gaze back to Kenobi. A hint of distant sadness was present on his expression, but he could feel the Master uncontrollably trembling in the force. A knowing glance at Yoda signaled his worry for their friend.

"Master Obi-Wan, a break, you should perhaps take."

Windu could feel Kenobi exerting his best effort to cease the trembling, and the Master hid his unseeable actions well. Windu could only encode a few light signals radiating from the Jedi.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm quite alright, just a little disturbed by the account."

Yoda accepted the response with a nod, so Windu did the same. Rarely would he challenge the wisdom of the long-served Master .

"Yes, well, the rest of my memory is clouded. I only remember being tormented by another wave of force lightning and falling out the office window. The next thing I knew, I was laying in an alley on the streets of Coruscant."

"I see," replied Kenobi, rubbing his chin in deep thought. Both Masters eyed the floor in response to Windu's anecdote, pondering the implications it pertained to their present condition.

That only left Windu to sulk in guilt.

 _If I had succeeded, there would be no need to be sitting here, mulling over the results of my failures. We could be conversing in the Jedi Temple, filled with the warm signatures of Jedi that still persist, celebrating in the defeat of our most detested enemy._

But he hadn't succeeded, and everything he had lived for was now in ruins.

 _The blood of over 10,000 lives are on my hands, with many more to come. What have I done?_

He had once similarly regretted his actions, or lack thereof, on Geonosis.

His lightsaber could have been at Dooku's throat, poised to deliver the blow that would end the conflict between the Republic and the Separatists that hadn't even truly yet begun.

Instead, he had extended his blade to the shaven chin of Jango Fett, a bounty hunter who would've had no discernible impact on the war had he survived the battle.

He could have saved countless lives. He could have prevented the torrent of horror that had surged through the galaxy. All of this could have been achieved through more sensible blade placement and the mere flick of his hand.

But he hadn't chosen correctly. Instead, he had spared the nefarious man and sentenced the Galaxy to years of insufferable torment.

But this.

 _This_ almost made his failure on Geonosis seem entirely insignificant.

On Geonosis, he had subjected the Galaxy to the afflictions of war and conflict.

But in the Chancellor's office, he had subjected it to infinite levels of oppression and tyranny.

Now, because of his second great failure, the Sith would rule the Galaxy with an iron fist unlike any before it.

And once again, he could have prevented it all with the mere flick of his hand. Palpatine had been at the tip of his lightsaber, gasping for mercy.

 _What have I done? What have I allowed to happen?_

He began to stutter an apology, "I-I'm sorry. I've failed both of you, I-"

"No," Kenobi briskly interrupted Windu's apology, his expression less riddled with despair but still sunken, "we all failed each other. We should have foreseen all of this. We should have acted on our suspicions of Palpatine's malevolence earlier. We should have seen the dire conflict within Anakin and helped him. For Force sakes, I was his Master, I should have recognized it immediately."

"Right, Master Obi-Wan is. Foreseen all of this, we should have. Blind we were to all of the deception around us."

Windu knew they were right, but his moment had been more pivotal than any they had been involved in. For a time, he alone had held the power to extinguish their destined adversary. He alone had faltered in attempting to do so.

 _If only I had succeeded._

 _If only we had won._

 _If only-_

"Mace, are you okay?"

Kenobi was now leaning over the white table, a hand of his comfortably placed on Windu's shoulder.

He had been drifting away in somber thought.

"Oh, yes, I'm fine. I just, well, I just-"

"It's okay," Kenobi reassuringly voiced, "we understand. We've all been glooming over the recent events. None of us is entirely in our standard mental condition. I'm sure you've sensed it."

Yoda grunted his acknowledgment.

"Yes, struggled with our losses, we all have. But, overcome them, we will. Focus on that of our future, we must."

Windu nodded, rubbing his forehead with the warmth of his remaining hand.

"You're right. I apologize for my disturbance."

And he was right to. How could he have let himself drift so far into a net of emotion? He should be beyond such an error by now.

Kenobi smiled, "No apology needed. I've had the same problem as of late."

 _Enough of this._

Windu straightened his posture, again adapting his expression of grim neutrality. It was time to get back to business.

"Thank you, Master Kenobi. I'm sure we will all move past our grieving stages soon. In the meantime, I suggest we continue with both of your accounts before we discuss our next steps of action."

He no longer wished for the course of their discussion to revolve around his sentiments. The state of the Galaxy was much more important than any personal demon he was currently dealing with.

Yoda grunted his concurrence, "Right, Master Windu is. Share my account, I will next."

Windu was sure that both Master's narratives would be just as stimulating as his own.

But certainly not any more promising.


End file.
